


Terror Twins

by canikostar99



Category: Transformers - All Media Types
Genre: Brotherly Love, Hints of tragic past, Humor, possible inappropriate humor
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-05-01
Updated: 2015-05-01
Packaged: 2018-03-26 15:34:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,004
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3855877
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/canikostar99/pseuds/canikostar99
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>My comedy story bringing the twins back together in Transformers Robots in Disguise 2015.  It's funny to me, but it may not be as funny for others. The rating is debatable. I think it's okay for general audiences, but it might be more for teens. I'll add more chapters soon.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Terror Twins

TF RiD 2015

Terror Twins

This story is specifically for contemplating what would happen if Sunstreaker were to join Sideswipe in RiD 2015, and how the team would handle the potentially volatile mech. I've watched episodes 1-13, so I'm technically not behind in the show right now. I can't freak out for not following storyline, wooh! Oh, by the way, this storyline actually started because I couldn't remember any of the con's names, and I thought Thunderhoof was called HoofJaw.

**Base A.K.A. The Salvage (Junk) Yard Control Deck Alcamore**

**P.O.V. Sideswipe**

Why does Bee have to get so upset about things. It was a simple designation mistake. It wasn't my fault the decepticons took offense, and took to chasing me.

**Flashback**

_“Hey, ThunderCat!” There was a confused look from the moose and cat decepticon, as well as the cornered StrongArm and the rest of the team, as they tried to figure out which decepticon I was indicating. Shaking my head, with a dismissive gesture towards the moose and a reinvigorated point towards the cat, I attempt to clarify._

_“Not you, Hoof. You're not important. You, the cat, I need to ask you something. What the hell is your name, again? I have totally forgotten it.” There was a silence as I waited for my answer. The cat's face was a combination of surprise and irritation for a moment before answering._

_“My name is SteelJaw. You would do better to remember it if you value your life.” He took a step to turn around, before I responded again._

_“Huh, that's weird. Yours and Hoof's name nearly match.” There was an incredulous look from the other members of the team, and I realized I must have made a mistake somewhere. Hoof's annoyed voice interrupted before I could correct myself, though._

_“What exactly do you mean by that?” I gulped with a nervous hitch in my vents as I backed away from the suddenly looming mech._

_“I might of accidentally mistaken your name to be HoofJaw?” There was a snort of air from the moose mech's vents, and SteelJaw had joined him in looming with clawed hands glinting._

_“You have confused me with ThunderHoof twice now, and now you have insulted me. Big mistake, little delinquent.” I let a nervous oops chuckle out before transforming and tearing away through the woods as fast as possible, complete with two pissed 'cons tailing me._

**Now**

“So, why do I have to memorize the database, again?” Fix-It glances up from where he was fiddling wheels deep in another part of the console, and barely drags himself out before he can take an unintended dive.

“Well, that should be fairly oblivious. – Oblivious? Obvious. You didn't remember two 'cons you've faced before, and you could have been killed because of that.” I sighed, trying my best face of resigned despair.

“But, it's so boring just reading through all of this. Why can't I just refer to them all as cons?” The mini-bot rolled up next to me for a second to consider the screen before replying.

“That would likely lead you to same result as the most recent battle, and besides the prison ship was made for more than just decepticons. You would likely insult someone. Oh, I know. We can make this into a game. We'll take a name and compare it to the image and descriptions and look for relationships!” The mini was laughing to himself about ways of doing scores, but my attention was still on what he said before.

“Fix-It, what do you mean by 'more than just decepticons'?” For some reason, that phrase made me uneasy, and I wanted to know why.

“Well, I don't know too many of the details, but apparently during rebuilding efforts at the end of the war there were some mechs who didn't readjust to peace and went bzz-bzz-bzzt -- berserk. They were also held in stasis pods, at least until a medic could reprogram their aggression responses and rehabilitate them. There was one autobot like that on the Alcamore, but apparently he's been fighting off attempts at reprogramming and rehabilitation.” Fix-It pulls up the related file, and my vents hitch in surprise as I recognize it. The file has no name for the mech, a brief description of the carnage he caused destroying an illegal pit-fighting ring and law enforcers he took down for getting in the way, and a heavily blurred image of a masked golden mech with optics turned red from rage. Then, as quickly as it flicked into view, the file was replaced with a map and a circled red dot.

“There is enough extra precautions to say that pod won't open by accident, and even SteelJaw will give that one a wide berth; so it only needs to be moved to the base, but it will be really heavy and we'll need to use the trailer.” Fix-It was grinning at the console, which was signaling the pod as functioning and in use.

“I should ask a couple of the others to go with the trailer and retrieve it.” I stepped in front of the mini-con, seeing a chance to change the likely outlook for the familiar bot, and proceeded to walk backwards outside in front of Fix-It while speaking.

“Hey. How about, since I'm signed to double shifts anyways, I'll take the trailer and get Sunstreaker and we can have my quiz when I get back. You've been a big help. Seriously.” With that I flipped off the ship's ramp, transforming mid-air, and ignored the trailer in my race out of the scrapyard. The startled looks of my team mates are priceless as I swerve under their feet, but not nearly as priceless as Fix-It shouting as he tries to chase me down an his little wheels.

“Wait. Sideswipe! Who's Sunstreaker?!” I leave laughter and dust as my response as I charge out towards that that blinking red blip I memorized off the map. Look out cons! The Terror Twins are making a comeback!


End file.
